You're late.

I sighed deeply as I approached the door. I glanced down at my phone before reaching for the handle. 2:39. Damnit. First day of class, and I'm already almost 10 minutes late. Hopefully I can sneak in the back without the professor noticing. I unlocked my phone to take one last peek at my schedule. "Professor Cameron." Didn't seem like the name of a hard-ass if they did happen to notice me slipping into the last row. Shouldn't be too much trouble.

I held my breath as I opened the door. I dipped in through the door frame, and of course, the door was positioned right in the middle of the top of the stairs. There's no way the professor didn't notice me coming in unless they had their back to the class. I kept my head down as I searched for a seat. And again, with my fantastic luck, all of the ones in the back rows were full, save for a couple at the very end, against the wall, but no way was I going to cause more disruption by climbing over my peers to reach them.

"You're late." The voice struck my ears and sent a shiver down my spine. I hated being the center of attention, and I guarantee everyone was staring at me now. "Um, sorry, Mr. Cameron, I had trouble finding the room." That was a lie, I had been in this building before. I had taken an algebra class right across the hall freshman year. I was awful at being on time to anything, even if I hadn't any prior commitments. I'm just lucky he didn't lock me out as one of my previous professors had done. Even then, I didn't learn my lesson to be on time to classes.

"It's Professor." He corrected me. "That should be listed in your student portal... along with a map." A few giggles from my fellow classmates echoed through the classroom. "Find a seat, please." I could feel my face become flushed and hot as I nodded, walking down the stairs to the first row. Not my ideal choice, but unfortunately one of the only open chairs. It wasn't a huge class, but thankfully not the 15 person class I had last term. I was hoping this meant I could blend in with my peers, and not be picked out in future classes.

I found my chair, and sat down, pulling out my journal and textbook for this class. Literature Throughout the World. I glanced up at the chalkboard, which reflected the same words. It was a low-level class, but one I had been neglecting to take. For a girl studying communications, I sure hated reading about them. Unfortunately, I had reached a point where I wasn't able to take some other classes I needed until this one was out of the way.

I dug through my bag for a pencil. I found one at the bottom, and sighed at the dull tip. It wasn't going to last me long, so here's hoping I didn't have to write much today. I had been neglecting to look up at Mr.- Professor Cameron. I had been listening to him droning on about the syllabus, but didn't want to risk making eye contact while he was talking about the attendance policy... including how being late can effect your grade.

As he continued reading through the syllabus, he droned on about what quizzes would look like, when essays would be due, exams, etc. My eyes moved around the classroom while he talked. Bouncing from the chalkboard, to the "EXIT" sign, the papers strewn along his desk, and then my eyes fell upon his shoes. Dress shoes were an interesting choice. Most professors liked to dress nice, but also kept it comfortable. I usually saw tennis shoes, as for some reason these people didn't like to sit. They always paced back and forth as they talked, restless, or distracted, it seemed.

Professor Cameron was no exception. Although, instead of pacing, he had not moved from his spot, directly centered in front of the class. My eyes drifted from his shoes, slowly up his pant leg, up his torso. His shirt was form fitting, allowing me to see the very subtle outline of his chiseled upper half. He was wearing a dark red tie, a burgundy of some sort. It went well with his charcoal grey suit.

My eyes continued their exploration, my gaze gliding along his jaw, moving up and down in sync with his words. It was sharp, matching what I assumed to be a stunning six-pack under his button down shirt. He clearly worked out, given his gray sleeves that were almost too tight. I could see the stubble coming in on his chin, hinting that it had been a day or two since he last shaved. The rest of his face was smooth, and kept up with. A fresh haircut shaped his salt and peppered hair, probably just done for the new term.

My eyes finally fell upon his. An olive shade of green, that grew darker towards the outside. I had never seen eyes like his before. They were mesmerizing. I wasn't even listening to what he was saying now. Something along the lines of chapters we were going to cover in the coming weeks. But I was too lost lost in my own thoughts.

His eyes made contact with mine, and my thoughts stopped. His gaze, striking. I could tell that although he was talking about something specific, his mind was elsewhere. My eyes shifted, breaking my deer-in-the-headlights like state. I could feel those green eyes continuing to burn a hole in the side of my head as he continued to talk. I pretended to read my syllabus while I waited for him to turn his gaze elsewhere.

When he finally looked away, I glanced back up at his face, continuing to study every pore, wrinkle, and trimmed-down hair. My gaze fell to his lips, and again, I was lost in my thoughts. They looked so soft. They looked like they would lock perfectly with mine. I imagined how they would feel against mine. How they would feel on my neck, and as they moved down my chest. How perfect they would look surrounding my nipples. How they would look as they opened up, making way for his teeth to gently nibble on the perky cones on the center of my breasts. I could feel them stiffen through my shirt as the thought crossed my mind.

My eyes shifted to his veiny hands, dreaming about them making their way down my body, tracing my curves. The thought of his fingers catching the waistband of my skirt. Not wanting to waste time even taking it off, so going underneath it instead. Pulling my panties to the side, and rubbing his rough fingertips up and down my folds.

I shifted in my seat as the imagery in my head began to make me wet. I could feel my juices start to leak ever so slightly into my panties. I bit my lip and crossed my legs. Professor Cameron moved on from the syllabus and started answering questions from students.

My mind went back to wandering, thinking about what he was hiding in those dark slacks. He was somewhat of a large man. Tall, and broad shouldered, I can only imagine how large his cock was. I almost started drooling as I imagined what it would be like to lick it. To ever so gently kiss the tip, run my tongue along the bottom of his shaft. I wondered if I would be able to take the whole thing in my mouth. How much I would have to struggle and gag as the tip grazed the back my throat. And after choking on it a few times, after it was nice and wet, how nicely it would feel in my pussy. How easily I would be able to just slide right onto it, and how wonderful it would feel to fill the space in my pussy.

He cleared his throat, snapping me out of my daydream. The classroom had become quiet, as everyone had seemingly flooded out of the room. The professor stood in front of me, his green eyes staring daggers into mine. "You weren't listening at all, were you?" I sucked in my lips, and glanced away. "Sure I was. A test here, a chapter there, and a big exam at the end."

"Smart, are we?" He raised his eyebrow and looked me up and down. "I would say so. Have yet to get anything under an 88% in any of my classes."

"You're not a freshman?" He looked confused.

"No." I answered. "Junior." I said promptly.

"I would've never guessed, you being late and all. Usually a beginner move."

"Yeah..." I looked away. "Sorry about that. I'm working on it."

"Maybe work a little harder next time." He sighed. "Don't want to have to face the consequences, do we miss..."

"Morgan. Rachel Morgan." I finished.

"Right, Miss Morgan. Let's be on time, next time. And maybe pay attention when we dive into the first chapter next week."

I gathered my books, shoving them back in my bag, and flung it over my shoulder. "Yes sir." He paused in his tracks, looked at me, with a brief look of hunger flashing over his face. His thoughts matched mine earlier. While a brief view, I could tell. He was as intrigued about me as I was him.

I picked up my phone and walked towards the door. "See you next week, Professor Cameron."

"Looking forward to it."